


A Crown Found Your Head

by kat_snow2613



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A lively debate about marriage, Angst, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_snow2613/pseuds/kat_snow2613
Summary: Jon and Sansa discuss the future for the North--and what it means for them.





	A Crown Found Your Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tubbylita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tubbylita/gifts).



“Sansa, I never wanted to be a king,” Jon said as he leaned against the fireplace.

“Yet a crown found your head nonetheless,” she muttered from her seat.

“You’ve grown quite sarcastic, haven’t you? What happened to the sweet girl I knew as a child?” Jon asked as walked to the table. He poured himself more wine. He was going to need it to survive this conversation.

“She was brought to Kingslanding, where she saw her father executed. She was beaten and humiliated. She barely escaped being raped, and somehow convinced the Lords of the Vale to send their armies North during the winter to help defend Winterfell,” she said, her eyes as hard and as cold as the North. 

Jon looked down. Even though he was angry, he felt half a fool for asking that of all questions. He stayed quiet.

“I rode with those men in the cold and the snow. I got to Winterfell just in time. I held it for over a year before you swooped in,” she finished. 

“Yes, you held Winterfell. You were brave, and resourceful, and courageous, and you’d still be dead if it weren’t for me,” he said, still angry at how she was just overlooking his contribution to their survival.

“If it weren’t for the fire breathing dragon you were riding, you mean?” she said, again with sarcasm. 

“Do you think it was easy? Do you think it wasn’t the most terrifying moment of my life?” he asked, his voice high in his throat.

She softened at that. “You’re right. I can’t imagine. You were very brave,” she admitted.

He foolishly seized the opportunity. “Not to mention what I had to go through to get the dragons in the first place,” he stated.

“Oh yes, it seems you had a terrible time, convincing the beautiful silver haired queen to help. I’ve heard that men hate spending time with beautiful women,” she said, giving him a sour look.

Her eyes narrowed on him. “And what exactly did you have to do to convince her?” she asked.

Jon blushed at the accusation. “It doesn’t matter what happened. She’s gone now.” Gone. The word hung heavy in the air. It was Sansa’s turn to look ashamed.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “We’ve all lost so much.” She nodded. There was a moment of kindness between them, if only a moment.

“Sansa,” he tried once again. “Robb named me his heir in his will. Half of the Northern houses have rallied to me, including the Mountain clans.”

“And the other half have rallied to me, as well as the Lords of the Vale,” she said defiantly. It seemed to be that this evening was one step forward, two steps back.

“As I’ve said, I do not wish to be King, but I won’t be a king who kneels, or a king who kills his sister and half of his people. The North has seen enough of death and darkness. Let us end this,” he said.

“How?”

“We must marry.”

She cackled with laughter at that. 

“So you won’t be a king who kills his sister, but fucks her?”

“We’ll...cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said, embarrassed. 

“Quite the bridge,” she said darkly. 

“We’re cousins in truth. It’s perfectly normal. And I suppose we only need to do...that part...once in awhile,” he said, taking a gulp of wine for courage.

“I have other cousins, who could support my claim. Like the Lord of the Vale,” she said. She seemed fond of reminding him her cousin was a lord.

“Would you rather marry him?” Jon suggested. She shuddered. “Gods no.”

Jon tried a different approach.

He kneeled before her. He forced his voice to soften.

“Sansa, I know this is difficult,” he began, as he pried her hand away from its grasp on her arm. “I know it will take some adjusting. But in time, I would like for you to think kindly of me.”

“And how should I think of you? My brother, my cousin, my King?” she asked.

He held her hand, tracing his thumb over her skin. With just a hint of hope in his voice, he answered her.

“Your husband.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hated how the show portrayed Sansa as having no cards to bring to the table, and how her autonomy was swept out from beneath her by a (delightfully) sassy ten year old. I wanted to imagine a conversation where they met as equals and tried to figure out what that would look like.


End file.
